Puppet by Eva Wiseman

Author:Eva Wiseman [Wiseman, Eva]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-77049-028-4
Publisher: Tundra
Published: 2009-08-28T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 1882 —

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 1882

I had used up all of the white thread in Ma's workbox and there were still four more of the prison guards' shirts to darn before the sun set. It was Saturday, so the Jew store near the prison was closed. I had to go to Kohlmayer's in the Old Village, even though the trip would use up precious hours of freedom. I had no choice.

As I hurried along, I recalled that Esther's last errand was also to Kohlmayer's. Esther must have walked the same route I was taking. What sad thoughts had filled her head as she followed the dirt road? My thoughts were interrupted by a carriage passing so close to me I thought it would run me over. I flattened myself against the building beside me. The carriage's wheels deflected a stone that hit my leg. Then the vehicle came to a halt.

I shook my fist at the driver.

“What do you think you're …”

I fell silent when I recognized Warden Henter in the front seat. Next to him was another figure. The passenger's wide-brimmed hat shaded his face. It wasn't until he glanced at me that I saw that it was Morris, but a very different Morris from the one I remembered. Gone were his long forelocks. His dark skull cap, black trousers, and white shirt with fringes had been replaced by the wide pantaloons, sturdy boots, vest, and hat with a tall crown worn by Hungarian boys.

Morris stared at me blankly with eyes like black pebbles. Only the muscle that began to twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed that he had recognized me.

I turned my head away from his empty eyes. Warden Henter didn't even look at me.

He pulled on Morris's arm. “What's the matter, boy?” he asked. “Haven't you ever been to the county archives?” He pointed at the building behind us.

“No, sir, I haven't,” mumbled Morris.

The warden patted him on the back.

“Come, my boy let me prove to you that you will be amply rewarded for describing the killing of Esther Solymosi,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

He pulled Morris's arm through his own and the two of them entered the building. Morris shot a frightened look in my direction before the door slammed shut behind them.

I waited a second before I followed them into the building. Nobody paid attention to me as I followed their voices up the staircase to a large room divided by a wooden counter with cabinets behind it. I hung back but I could clearly see Morris standing in front of the counter, still as a statue. Warden Henter was leaning over the counter and whispering into the ear of one of the clerks behind it. The man chuckled.

I noticed a bucket of water and some rags in a corner of the room. I got down on my hands and knees and began to wash the marble floor, careful at the same time to keep my face away from Warden Henter.

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